Beginning
by Saint Abraxas
Summary: Mako doesn't like to think of himself as sentimental, but Lin brings it out in him. Lin/Mako pre-romance.


**Notes**: This was written for the 30 Days of Writing Challenge on tumblr, the prompt being (of course) beginning. The pairing itself was inspired by avatarsnowy's post about Lin/Mako being the only Lin ship not worth sailing. Comments and criticism are always appreciated.

* * *

Mako is almost certain he's going to die.

There are four Equalists surrounding him and _someone_ just brought down half the tunnel on his head. He uses short blasts of fire to keep three of them away but puts most of his energy into dodging falling chunks of rock and hoping Korra or Bolin notices the _entire tunnel_ collapsing around him and _fixes_ it before—

Intense, overwhelming pain rips through Mako's body. He wants to go limp but the electricity surging through him sends all his muscles into agonizing spasms. It only lasts for a few seconds, but even when the Equalist behind him—_right_, he thinks, _there were four_—lets go, he can't seem to make his arms or legs move.

He lies on the ground, twitching like a dying firebeetle, as the world crashes down around him.

Mako is almost certain he's going to die, and then Lin Bei Fong appears and saves his life.

X

Fourteen hours later, he rolls out of bed with a half-remembered dream fluttering around the edges of his mind. It involved Lin, he's sure, even though all he remembers is a woman in black, mid-leap, and the earth rising at her command.

Mako dresses slowly, working around the bone-deep stiffness that always accompanies the Equalist's gloves. He wants to fall back into bed, but knows himself well enough to recognize he won't be able to sleep. Firebenders rise with the sun and it's already midmorning.

He ambles out of his room, heading for the kitchen across the unusually quiet temple. Bolin and Korra must still be asleep, he thinks, although he doesn't know where the three children are. It's the time of year where the bay stays swathed in mist, covering Air Temple Island, so Mako makes the journey in a light fog that wipes out the horizon and hangs in the air, muffling and distorting sounds.

He crosses the courtyard to the kitchen at a fast walk, head down against the fine mist, and shoulders the door open. Inside, he sees Pema seated at a small round table next to a window.

She looks up, smiling with real warmth. "Good morning, Mako," she says.

Mako waves back awkwardly and returns her greeting.

"If you're hungry, I could make you something," she offers, making as though to stand.

"No, it's fine," Mako says. "I know how to cook." It's technically true, even if nothing Mako can make holds a candle to Pema and Tenzin's abilities, but it seems wrong to ask someone so pregnant to make him food.

"Well, if you're sure," she says, settling back. "I'd hate to make you work after that run-in with the Equalists last night."

"Thanks," he says, grabbing a pot, but can't think of anything to add. 'I almost died'? 'Lin Bei Fong showed up and saved us all'? 'Being electrocuted hurts more than you'd think'? He settles on a third of the truth. "It could've been worse. Chief Bei Fong really helped us out."

"Lin was there?" Pema asks and there's such an odd note in her voice Mako turns, confused. But she's only sitting at the table, lifting the cup to her lips, with a distant look in her eyes. "That sounds like her. I hope she took the day off."

"You don't think she did?"

Pema shakes her head, smiling ruefully. "I doubt it," she says. "She works…very hard."

Mako frowns at the faucet as he fills the pot with water. As little as he thinks Lin wants to see him, he still owes her for dragging him out of the collapsing tunnels and away from the Equalists. But he doubts she wants his pity or his company, or even his gratitude. He measures out a decent amount of rice and lights the stove with firebending, the memory of Lin's hand gripping his collar and the smell of ozone and rock heavy in his throat running through his head. Pema sits quietly behind him, all the while, looking pensive and a little sad.

His stomach growls loudly and he shoots Pema an apologetic look. She brushes it off easily, laughing. "It's alright, Mako. My older brother was always starving when he was your age." She's only being nice, Mako knows, but his hands still tighten a little. They're good people, Pema, Korra, Tenzin, but they don't know what it means to starve. Lin might, although not because she's ever gone hungry—not when she's the daughter of the Blind Bandit. And yet… _Food_, he thinks, _food is a good gift_.

Mako extinguishes the fire with a sweep of his hand. It's worth a try. "Pema?" he asks. "Do you know what Chief Bei Fong likes to eat?"

X

A block away from the police station, Mako passes a cart selling flowers. It's a riot of colors—red, blue, green, purple, and a dozen others—and Mako pauses next to it, admiring in spite of himself. The roses and lilies and birds of paradise are set closest to the street and arranged in bright swathes, intercut with baby's breath and petunias. The vendor leans forward at Mako's interest and begins his rapid-fire pitch.

The flowers are beautiful but gaudy and he can't imagine Lin liking any of them. He's about to cut the vendor off and go on his way when a bundle of small, red and yellow flowers catches his eye. They're shaped like bluebells, but open wider and lack stems, for some reason. Technically, they're probably just as flashy as the roses, just smaller and less clichéd, but Mako can't help liking them.

It's stupid and sentimental, he thinks, but finds himself pointing at the small red and yellow blossoms anyway.

"How many?"

Mako checks his wallet, sighing when he remembers he spent most of his money at the restaurant. "Just one," he says. The vendor squints at him, but takes the last of Mako's yuans.

He can't decide what's worse: thank-you-for-saving-my-life flowers or cheap thank-you-for-saving-my-life flowers.

Holding the flower in one hand, paper bag of food in the other, Mako continues on to the police station. It feels more embarrassing than it should, no one's giving him a second glance after all, but he still ducks his head and hurries up the steps of the police station.

The cop behind the front desk is skeptical until Mako drops Korra's name into the conversation. It gets him an irritated look and directions to the Chief's office, which he follows.

He's been in the building before, but not on this side of the bars. There aren't yet enough years between his time in the Triads and now to keep his nerves steady. Mako is more familiar with metal cables around his wrists than the indifferent looks cops give him as he passes.

The back of his neck itches, but he makes it to Lin Bei Fong's office without being arrested, which is more than he would have expected from his life two years ago.

Mako knocks with the knuckles of his right hand, doing his best not to crush the flower. This only reminds him that it looks ridiculous and he's seriously considering setting it on fire when the door slides open. He shakes his head, trying to throw off his nerves, and steps through.

Lin is leaning over her desk, back to the door, writing rapidly with one hand. The room matches the black and grey of her uniform fairly closely; the desk, chairs, and walls are bare metal with intricate friezes and the bookshelves are some kind of dark wood.

"Mako," she says over her shoulder.

"Chief Bei Fong."

"Is there a problem?" She places the pen to one side and turns. Her expression is neither pleased nor annoyed. It's very like her office, Mako thinks: calm, organized, and practical. The most colorful things in the room besides his scarf are her pale green eyes.

"No," Mako says. "I brought you lunch. Szechuan noodles with fire flakes and extra peppers, right?"

"That's right." Lin looks mildly surprised. "Did Tenzin tell you?"

"Pema." That earns him a startled huff, but she takes the bag without hesitation when he holds it out.

Lin checks inside and Mako can't help but be proud at the expression of tranquil satisfaction that passes over her face when she inhales. Even if he doesn't understand how a human being could eat that many peppers without setting their mouth on fire.

"Thanks," she says, one corner of her mouth curling up, and sets the food on her desk.

"No problem." Mako's almost forgotten about the flower in his hand until Lin's gaze rests on it and she arches an eyebrow. "Oh. This is for you. It's for saving my life the other day. And so is the food. Thanks for that, by the way." The smile on her face isn't exactly kind, but it doesn't look insulted, either, so Mako holds the blossom out with an embarrassed shrug.

"Don't mention it," Lin says. She takes the blossom from him so delicately he barely feels the tips of her fingers through his gloves. Cradling it in her palm, she studies it expressionlessly.

"Nice choice," she says. "Was it on purpose?" Her eyes are very sharp when she looks at him.

"What?"

"This is a cactus blossom; barrel cactus, if I'm not mistaken. Should I take it as a criticism?" There's an undercurrent of mockery in her voice and a glint of amusement in her gaze.

"No," Mako says. Maybe having his life saved makes him honest; maybe the sardonic cast to Lin's face makes him droll. "I didn't know when I bought it. But it suits you. Prickly on the outside, but tough. Cactuses are pretty hard to kill, right? And anyone who tries to mess with them is likely to end up with a spike in his face. Sounds like you, Chief."

The laugh Lin lets out is short but genuine. "Alright," she says, still grinning. It's not the sort of smile that makes her look softer, but it is the sort of smile that makes her look fierce. Mako likes it. "I'll hang on to it." Mako glances dubiously around the office. He doesn't see any place where the cactus flower would be anything other than incongruous. It doesn't even really look appropriate in Lin's hand, not next to her black and grey armor and the paleness of her skin. Instead of saying anything, Mako shrugs. He knew flowers were a stupid idea.

And then Lin snaps a corner of her desk off. It's only about the size of Mako's hand, but his shoulders tense involuntarily. Lin cuts her eyes to him, smile mocking again. All she does, though, is flex her fingers and the metal goes soft and malleable in her hand.

She raises her left hand and lets the metal pour out like hot glass over the flower in her right, covering it completely. When the only thing left in her palm is a small, unevenly shaped ball of metal, Lin changes the position of her hands and her eyes slip half-closed. Her bending holds the ball in the air until she touches the tips of her fingers to its surface and she sets it spinning with a light twist of her wrists.

Mako watches, eyes wide and mouth open, as Lin's fingers dance over the metal, outlining petals and anthers and stigmas in more and more detail. After no more than a few minutes, Lin has a near-perfect cast of the flower hanging between her hands. She bleeds off excess metal into her left hand and flicks it back to the desk before opening her eyes.

She's amused by the stunned look on his face, Mako knows, but he's never seen bending like this before and he can't seem to look indifferent to the Chief's skill. He does manage to close his jaw, at least.

"You really are going to keep it," he recovers enough to say. An inordinate amount of pride swells in his chest and he crosses his arms, trying to hide it.

"Guess so," Lin says, placing the metal flower on her desk. "Thanks for the food." Mako grins.

"Don't mention it."

X

He remembers more of the dream that night, just before he falls asleep. It was Lin, beautiful and terrible, falling from the sky like a vengeful dragon just as his legs gave out. The earth bore him up to safety and she flew with wings shaped like metal cables.

He forgets it again when he turns, but that night his dreams are filled with flowers preserved in diamond, ageless and undying, and a woman with pale green eyes.


End file.
